


Together in Paris

by localsportsteam



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, Anastasia Musical, Anastasia the Musical, anastasia on broadway
Genre: AU, F/M, dimitri is overthinking addition, help i've always loved this girl but she can't remember shit but o look she's yellin again, not really slow burn but buildup, oh no, oh no she's remembering shit what if she remembers i was her servant, oh no we have to....share the bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-03 19:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14002737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localsportsteam/pseuds/localsportsteam
Summary: Dimitri knew that this couldn’t last forever – in time he would have to tell Anya of her past, or something would finally trigger that flood of memories. He knew he would lose her, because he wasn’t meant to have her. Three-shot AU where Dimitri discovers Anastasia after that fateful night.





	1. Chapter 1

_Two Months Prior_

There were several reasons why his heart was racing – for one thing, Dimitri was not supposed to be here. Standing in this room, with its large fireplace and chandelier lamps and plush carpets and high-up drapes. Kitchen boys didn’t stand in rooms like these. He especially wasn’t supposed to be in a royal’s bedroom, with its large bed and silk sheets and drawers full of clothes no man was supposed to see. For another reason, he was looking at _her_ , the lovely Anastasia, as she stood in her ballgown and looked him square in the eye. Dimitri knew he would’ve caught the worst beating of his life if someone, anyone, saw him here.

“Which once?” Anastasia asked, holding up two necklaces.

But Dimitri was willing to risk that all, because she wanted him here. “I like the pearl one.” He said. “It goes nicely with your skin.” He said. Her skin was soft and cream-colored. Her hands had never cracked or bled from work or rough play.

“My _skin_?” Anastasia snorted.

“I just mean like the pearls are off-white, and so is your skin, and the dress is already pink like your cheeks so maybe that was the – nevermind.” He huffed, crossing his arms.

Anastasia laughed at him, but still clipped the pearls around her neck. She spun around. “How do I look?” she asked.

“Beautiful,” he breathed. He wanted to add more to the sentence, but there was no way to do so. He knew his place, he had always known his place, and he would never be able to be closer to her than the doorway of her room, as she got ready to socialize with more appropriate people.

…

_July 16 th, 1918_

There was a sickly feeling in Dimitri’s stomach as he went to bed that night. He thought he knew what is was – sometimes he felt this way knowing that she would go off and mingle, potentially allowing her to meet suitors. Sometimes he felt mad at the universe for relegating him to this fate and sticking him with a love he could never act on. He could be happy as a kitchen boy, he could be happing loving Anastasia. But he couldn’t be happy with both at the same time.

But no, that sickly feeling was intuition, the realization of which came when he heard a round of sharp shots ring out in the night.

…

_July 17 th, 1918_

Dimitri ran his hand across his eyes to push off the tears and kept his head low. After being awoken by the gunfire, he couldn’t fall asleep again. Quickly the sun rose, as if it had no respect for the immense loss that had just been suffered. When the first rays of sunshine came across the horizon, he had already gathered up the few things he had into a knapsack and was prepared to go anywhere, anywhere that wasn’t here.

Besides, the palace had no need for the servants anymore.

He hiked down the side of the castle to avoid any potential early-risers. He wasn’t sure who committed these murders, and he wasn’t sure how he’d be viewed as both a poor man or a castle worker, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Dimitri wrapped his scarf around his mouth and ducked his head to the side – he paused. Out of the corner of his eye there was a splotch of red, too uncharacteristic of winter to be anything but the remainder of the shots from the morning. Dimitri knew he should keep walking; get out of there as quickly as possible. But yet, he turned and watched tepidly towards the valley.

There was more red – and worse.

“Fuck.” Dimitri swore, slipping down the valley as he headed towards the bodies. He knew exactly who they were; there was no room for hopeful denial now. _Maybe she hadn’t been shot, maybe it was something else. Maybe they missed._ There she lay, strawberry blonde hair wrapped around her neck, limbs blue-tinted from the cold.

“Fuck, fuck, **_fuck_**.” Dimitri said, fumbling to find a pulse on her neck, pushing her hair back. There was blood splattered on her clothes, but he didn’t see a source on her. Nothing. She was so, so cold.

“Ana…” he mumbled, running his fingers slowly down her neck, pressing in hard to detect any pulse possible. There, like the flutter of a hummingbird, like a miracle beyond belief, there was the tepid pulse that definitively indicated that Anastasia Romanov had somehow lived.

“Oh, my God!” Dimitri declared, before pulling himself back. The last thing he could afford was to be discovered out here. He shook out of his coat and laid it over her.  “Ana, please. Ana, can you hear me?”

She did not respond, but he noticed now how her eyelids were fluttering.

Dimitri shuffled over to the other people laying there and checked for pulses. No, no, no. Dimitri settled back on his feet. There was no time to bury them. Not if he was gonna get Anastasia out of here. He muttered a prayer and tossed snow on each of them. It was far less than they deserved, but it was the best he could do.

There was a groan behind him and Dimitri scooted back over to Ana.

“Who are you?” Anastasia asked.

Dimitri furrowed his brow. He’d been employed at the castle since he was a child – they’d known each other nearly ten years! She must’ve hit her head very hard.

“Where do you hurt?” Dimitri asked.

“My head…” she moaned, grabbing her forehead.

Dimitri picked her head up gingerly and checked the back of her head. “You’re not bleeding. I think you’re okay to move.”

“Where-“ she went to roll to her hip, but Dimitri knew if there was anything she shouldn’t see it was the bodies behind her.

“No, we’ve got to go. Do you trust me?”

“No.” Ana snapped.

“Will you come with me anyway?” Dimitri said, holding her head so that she wouldn’t look away from him.

Her tone softened a bit. “I suppose.”

“Good, here, quickly.” Dimitri said, pulling her up. His coat slid from her lap. Her dress, though blood stained, was still fine silk. He’d have to get her out of that quickly if they had any hope of blending in, but that was a problem for a later time. Right now, he just had to get her out of the castle.

“Where are we going? What’s going on? Why was I in the snow?” Anastasia fired off at him.

“I’ll explain later,” he said. He just needed to buy time.

“What’s your name?” she asked, grabbing his hand.

He squeezed her hand. “I’m Dimitri.”

“Dimitri.” She said, sharply nodding her head. “What’s my name?”

Dimitri stopped in his tracks, dragging Anastasia back. She didn’t even know her own name. How much _did_ she remember? This may have bought him the time he needed. “An-Anya.” He said quickly. It was best if she knew as little as possible, for the ease of getting her out of here. “Your name is Anya.”

…

The two eventually made their way into town by the time mid-morning came. People were up and bustling, and news of the Tsar’s death was just beginning to leak out. Anya was too overwhelmed by the city sights to pay much attention. She remembered cities, she knew what one was, she just didn’t remember the ins and outs of _this_ city.

Though, to be fair, as a royal it’s not like she was ever allowed in town anyway.

“I just know I’ve been here before.” Anya said, waving her finger.

“Where?” Dimitri said, distracted.

“Here!”

“Okay, Anya.” Dimitri grabbed her waist and pulled her into an alley. “I’m gonna get us some stuff, you stay here.”

“Why do I have to stay here? You’re just buying stuff at a market!”

“Not exactly?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have money?” Dimitri asked, raising his eyebrows.

Anya checked his coat pockets and shook out her skirts. “No.”

Dimitri held out his arms. “Then how do we get stuff?”

“You’re gonna _steal_ it?”

“Look, if we’re going to get out of here, then not everything about our journey can be legal, per se.” Dimitri ran his hand through his hair.

“Why are we leaving?”

Dimitri shifted between his feet. “It’s not safe for you to be here. Someone tried to hurt you and – and they hit your head and left you out in the snow.”

“Who?”

How was she taking this so well? It wasn’t the full truth, but it wasn’t a lie. “I don’t know.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I want to go to the market.” She said curtly, peeling off before Dimitri could get another word in.

She flitted from stand to stand, picking up items and even bartering, as if they could afford to buy anything, no matter how cheap the price. Dimitri made sure to pass by her as often as possible, but he knew as well as anyone that Anya could take care of herself.

‘This is fresh from the palace-’

‘Very inexpensive, worth far more than I’m asking-‘

‘This is real fur!-‘

Vendors all called out to her, but she lured everyone’s attention and allowed Dimitri to grab a few things while no one was looking. After he stayed as long as reasonable and took what he could, Dimitri slipped out of the packed market and back into the alley. He noticed Anya watching him walk out, and within a few minutes she was back in the alley as well.

“What’d ya get?” she asked smiling. This was exciting to her. She had never lived a life like this before, and she didn’t even know the life she had before this. It was charming, but also sad.

“I got us some bread, dried meats, clothes for you to change into.”

“I have clothes!”

“You can’t be wearing that around, I promise you.” Dimitri said. There was a covered doorway in the which indented into the building. “Would you go change in there?” he jutted towards it with his chin.

Anya grabbed the clothes from his arms. “What is this, a fashion show?”

“Similar.” Dimitri retorted, but she had already scuttled down the alley.

He surveyed the passers by and looked at both ends of the alley to ensure no one disturbed her, but she changed quickly and no one came by.

“Okay, let’s-“

“Dimitri!” she interrupted, confusion in her voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Does this mean something to you?” she asked, pulling a necklace that she had tucked under her blouse.

“It just says ‘Together in Paris’” Dimitri said.

“I know, I can read.” Anya rolled her eyes. “But why do I have it?”

“I’m-I’m not really sure.” Dimitri said, half-lying.

“Well, we have to go.” She said firmly.

“To Paris?”

“You asked me where I want to go. That’s where I pick.”

“That’s expensive, Anya.”

“Then we’ll save up money!”

Dimitri looked into her eyes. He knew what she’d been though, and he knew that if any of her relatives survived, they’d be in Paris. It’s where she should go; she should be back in her normal life. He would just have to appreciate whatever time he had with her before then.

“Fine. We’ll go to Paris.”

Anya smiled brightly and stuffed everything she was holding into his bag. Dimitri sighed. Even without remembering she was a royal, she still sure acted like one.

…

However, Dimitri was insistent that they get out of the city first. She didn’t press him too much on this, thankfully, but he knew the odds of someone recognizing her or spreading rumors went down the further removed they were, and he wanted to take as few chances as possible.

“How are we going to take a train?” she had asked. “We still don’t have any money.”

“We have something better than money!”

“Better?”

“Well, worse. But still good.” Dimitri held up fake train tickets and identification.

“Where did you get those?”

“I made them!” he said proudly.

“So you’re a thief and a forger?”

“Con man is usually easier to say.” Dimitri said, giving her a half smile.

“Remind me why I trusted you again?” Anya said, but took the ticket regardless.

“I thought you didn’t trust me.” Dimitri yanked the ticket back. “Not so fast, I still have to fill them out.” He fumbled for a pen in his pocket and scribbled in dates and destination.

Anya pressed her cheek against the side of his arm. “If you can write in Petrograd, why not Paris?”

“None of these trains go to Paris,” Dimitri said quickly. “And keep your voice down.”

Anya then whispered, though even her whispers were loud. “When do we get to Paris?”

“I’ll explain once we have a car, c’mon.” Dimitri grabbed her hand to keep her close and was amazed at how much of the world had to change just to allow him to do this. A younger world would never allow him to get this close, much less hold her hand so casually.

They picked a car towards the back of the train, in hopes of minimizing traffic from passers-by.

“Lemme see your bag.” Anya said, almost as quickly as they sat down.

“Hey!” Dimitri objected, but she had already stuck her hands in there and rifled around. “What are you looking for?”

“You’re not the only one who figured out how to steal.” She proudly held up a little jewelry box.

“We’re broke, have little food and no changes of clothes, and you stole a jewelry box?” Dimitri said flatly.

“I recognized it. I don’t know from where, but I knew it.”

It certainly looked expensive. How someone got it out of the palace within 24 hours of the tsar’s death was a mystery to Dimitri, but he knew as well as anyone that people were vultures.

Anya leaned up against him and examined the box more closely. Dimitri wondered if it was okay to wrap his arm around her, since she seemed so comfortable with touching him. He wondered if she thought about it at all, or if she was just this naturally at ease. He wiggled the arm she was leaning agree free and put it on the back on the seat, not touching her but getting close.

Anya gasped, and Dimitri almost yanked his arm back. She looked a finger around the necklace she was still wearing and tugged it out from her blouse. “I remember..” she said, inserting the necklace into the box and turning it a few times. The box popped open, and music began to play.

“How did you-?”

“This was mine.” Anya said definitively. “I-I” she scrunched her eyes shut. “I remember a woman – she gave it to me. I don’t…I don’t remember her name, but she had curly, gray hair. Maybe she was my grandmother?”

“Maybe.” Dimitri said quietly.

“I hate this!” Anya wailed, clenching her fists. “I don’t remember anything important! I don’t know who I am, or why I was in the snow, or who you are!”

“We were friends, when you were younger.” Dimitri said. At least he didn’t have to lie about that.

“Will you tell me the truth?” Anya asked, turning towards him.

 _Probably not._ “Yes.”

“Why are people coming after me?”

“Your…your family fell in with some people. Some people who weren’t really liked.” He didn’t want to lie to her, but how could he tell the poor girl all of this, so cavalierly? After she had hurt her head and been yanked from her home? All she really needed was a story, and he would give her the vaguest one possible. “Popular opinion turned against them. Some people really, really disliked them.”

“Is my family okay?”

Dimitri was quiet.

“Dimitri…” Anya said, tears forming. “Where is my family?”

Dimitri reached forward, hand brushing against her skin as he picked up the necklace. “Hopefully you have some relatives in Paris.”

…

How was he supposed to do this? Anya had stepped out to go walk around the train a bit, leaving Dimitri alone with his thoughts. Dimitri knew that this couldn’t last forever – in time he would have to tell Anya of her past, or something would finally trigger that flood of memories. He knew he would lose her, because he wasn’t meant to have her.

He tried to temper the news as much as possible, that they had been shot, but were buried and didn’t know pain. He didn’t know if the last part was true, but honesty wasn’t always beneficial. What would that bit of truth change? And she had cried, oh how she had cried. Not that he could possibly blame her.

She lost the capacity to ask questions and buried her face into his chest and cried. He didn’t question the propriety of touching her then, and wrapped his arms around the poor girl and let her have her moment. He wished he could fix this, someone. He didn’t want to see her in pain because…because he _loved_ her. God, how he loved her.

“We’re going to get to Paris quickly, right?” Anya said, her voice gentle and almost scared. She closed the door behind her.

“Yes.” Dimitri promised, although all he wanted was to stall them in Petrograd and enjoy the time he was allowed to have with her.

“And anyone…anyone who’s looking for me won’t be able to find me there, right?”

“Right.” Dimitri promised. “It’s highly unlikely they’d even be able to get out of Russia.”

Anya nodded a few times, walking slowly over to Dimitri. She sat down on the bench and he went to move his legs off the bench and clear room for her, but she laid down on top of him and buried her face into his neck. “Thank you.” She whispered, very softly.

Dimitri pushed her hair back and noticed that she had closed her eyes and relaxed. He chuckled a little. “Good night, Anya.”

“Good night,” she murmured.

Dimitri felt tense. He had never, in a million years, expected this moment to happen. She had fallen asleep, her head resting on his chest, her arms wrapped around him, hair falling over his arm. She was relaxed and comfortable and cuddled up against him. He didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Could he rest his hand on the niche of her waist? Was it okay to push her hair out of her eyes? If he moved would that wake her?

As she slept, undisturbed and seemingly comfortable, he began to relax as well. With the gentle swaying of the train car, he fell asleep in time too.

…

They eventually arrived in Petrograd, where people bustled about.

“I don’t know this place.” Anya shook her head.

“I do!” Dimitri said proudly, looping his arm around her waist. “Stay close.” He said. Yes, she would be safer, but mostly he just wanted her as close as she could be for as long as she could be.

“Where are we going?” Anya asked. “I want bread.” She broke from his grasp to lunge for his bag.

“Anya!-“ he said, grabbing her a bit roughly and tugging her back to the side. He sighed and cupped her cheeks, tilting her head up to look at him. “We don’t have enough. We have food for one, _maybe_ two more meals. Until we get a job or steal some more, we can’t risk it. We ate this morning.”

Anya had never gone without a meal before, she had never not had any whim fulfilled. And though she did not remember this, she also didn’t remember hunger. She still nodded. “Okay.” She said, grabbing Dimitri’s hand. “So, where are we going?”

“There’s a port very close by. There’s a lot of boarding houses there, and they’re always looking for workers.”

“How do you know that?”

“I grew up here.” Dimitri said. “My brother worked in factories, and I worked as a servant in one of the houses. When things changed I was sent to look for work in the palace.”

“Is your brother still here?” Anya asked.

Dimitri was quiet for a moment. “He was crushed by one of the machines.” he said quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” Anya said, with not only sincerity by newfound empathy.  She added, “Your parents?”

“Parents, siblings, any relatives really – different causes of course, but-“

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Anya said quickly.

“Thank you.” Dimitri breathed. “I’m hoping the house I used to work in is still open.” He changed conversation topics. “The woman who ran it was very kind.”

…

The swinging wooden sign read ‘дом пирса’ and Dimitri beamed. “This is it!” he exclaimed, tugging Anya along.

“This is where you worked?”

The house was charming in its own way but was in need of serious repair. It was a dingy off-white and the shutters were missing slats. Everything smelled very strongly of fish. Dimitri knocked at the door.

“Hello?” A woman, with graying hair and round glasses answered the door.

“Marta?” Dimitri asked, smiling a little.

The woman took off her glasses and cleaned them with her apron. “Do I know you? You look familiar but I’m afraid-“

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to recognize me! It’s me, Dimitri!”

“Dimitri!” she exclaimed, wrapping him up in a hug. “I knew I’d know that nose anywhere.” She tapped his nose with her index finger! “Come in, come in both of you! Oh, what a lovely surprise!”

“Marta, I’m afraid I have a bit of a favor to ask-“ Dimitri said, taking off his hat.

“Oh?”

“Do you have any work available? Maybe a room?”

“Oh my sweet child, of course!” Marta exclaimed. “I was so sad when you went off east, I never thought in a million years I’d see you again! I only have one room available right now, and it’s not very nice, but I need help with cooking and cleaning and – oh! Where are my manners? What’s your name, miss?” Marta turned to face Anastasia.

“I’m Anya!” she said, smiling and shaking the woman’s hand.  

“And you two-“ Marta didn’t finish her question, but her eyes darted back and forth.

“We’re married!” Anya exclaimed happily, grabbing Dimitri’s bicep and pressing herself to his side. “Newlyweds, but we didn’t quite have money for rings, so you’ll have to excuse that!” Anya smiled up at Dimitri, asking him to play along.

A demand he would happily aqueisqeue to. “Exactly.” He said, cupping her cheek with his free hand.

“Oh, how sweet!” Marta said. “Here, let me show me to your room.”

…

“So, my darling wife…” Dimitri teased as the two settled into the room and unpacked the few things they had.

“Well, what was I supposed to say? She certainly wouldn’t let us share the room if we were unmarried. And she knows you already, it’s not like we could say I was your sister.”

Marta had shown them upstairs. The room was small, with one bed shoved into the corner, a dresser, and a few hooks for coats. There was one window that let in what sunlight was left in the day, and a shabby curtain to cover it. It was clean, and it was clear that Marta did care about her boarding house, even if she didn’t have to money to make it a truly comfortable place to stay.

“No, no I agree. There was nothing else to say.” Dimitri said, a teasing twang still in his voice.

“Are you trying to imply something?” Anya said, hands on hips.

“What is there to imply?”

“That I _like_ you, or something stupid like that?”

“Anya, perish the thought. You know I have cooties.”

“Because I don’t!”

“I’m sure.”

“In fact, I find you quite annoying!” Anya crossed her arms.

Dimitri smiled at her and cupped her cheeks gently again. Her face was so soft and seemed to fit perfectly in his hands. “My own wife finds me annoying. What a cruel joke the fates have paid on me.” He smiled at her eye roll, but mostly at the pinkish blush that crept up into her cheeks.

…

“We’re ready to work!” Anya said, skipping down the stairs. She had no memory of work, Dimitri was sure, so this was an exciting new world to her.

Marta laughed. “I’m glad to hear it, but not today. Here.” She put a few coins in Anya’s hand. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you a good meal.”

“Oh you don’t have to-“

“Please, please. It’s a wedding gift! I’m sure you two had little in the way of a honeymoon. I only wish I could do more.”

“Oh, thank you!” Anya hugged Marta, and the woman waved them off.

“Well, sweetie, why don’t we?” Dimitri took Anya’s hand – for the show of it all, of course.

“Sure, darling!” Anya reached for his arm. Dimitri tried to flex his arm subtly, so that she would think he was stronger than he was. Once she wrapped her hands around his bicep, he realized it might be difficult to hold it for the entirety of their walk to town but looks like he’d have to try.

“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked.

“Almost never.” Dimitri said with refreshing honesty. “But we’ll find some food that looks good, and maybe walk around a bit. Explore the city. It’s been almost a decade since I left.”

“Sounds great!” Anya said chipperly. “We should only spend half, though.”

“Why?”

“So we can save it. Get to Paris sooner!”

…

Eventually they got some rolls and beef and walked down by the harbor. As the fishermen had all left, it stank significantly less, which was romantic in its own way, Dimitri supposed.

“I was so _hungry_!” Anya said, now very satisfied.

“Do you want the rest of my roll?” Dimitri offered. “I’m already full.” He lied.

“Yeah!” Anya said, taking it happily. “These are delicious.”

They walked down the pier with the setting sun and dangled their feet off the end.

“I can’t remember the last time I was around water.” Anya said, a bit sadly. “I feel like I don’t remember anything at all, even though I know what bread is, and can name my colors. I feel like a blank person who has all the information a normal person would, but no past.”

Dimitri felt a pit form in his stomach. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

Anya shrugged. “I hope I’ll remember eventually.”

“I’m sure you will!” Dimitri said, before hit by another wave of realization that her remembering meant losing her forever.

Anya looked over at him, taking his hand. Softly, she said, “I wish I remembered you.”

“You will. And what matters most is that I’m here now.” Dimitri said, leaning towards her.

“I can’t thank you enough for helping me. I remember hazy figures…and cold…and then I woke up and there was the noise of you shuffling and the cold hardness of the snow but you got me out of there. And now we’re here, and we have lodging and safety and food. In a few weeks, we’ll-“

She went quiet and looked up at Dimitri, reaching her hand out to touch his face. He was sure it was scratchy and stubbly, but Anya kept her hand there. He leaned towards her, becoming increasingly aware of how their legs were pressed together and she was leaning against the left arm he had placed behind her. He knew what was happening, he wanted it, but he couldn’t believe it. The girl he was never supposed to love, never allowed to, wanted to kiss him. Far be it from him to deny her anything, but especially not this.

“Oi, looka that!” a group of young men heckled, walking by the piers. “Just kiss her!”

Anya jerked back from Dimitri, and the moment disappeared.

“People are starting to drink.” She muttered, standing up.

“It’s Russia, Anya. People are always drinking.

She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. “We should go home. It’s late.”

Dimitri nodded and offered his arm (flexing again, of course). “Alright. Let’s go.

…

 _It’s just like the train, you slept with her on the train, this is like the train seat but bigger._ Dimitri assured himself. But this _wasn’t_ the train, and Anya had stripped down to her slip and let down her hair and he certainly wasn’t going to sleep in a full suit and it _wasn’t_ a train seat, it was a _bed_. Dimitri felt his heart speed up and took a deep breath to steady himself. Just like the train, just like when she announced their pseudo-marriage, Anya didn’t seem bothered by their increasing proximity. She was comfortable, as if dashing across the country with someone she didn’t remember was something normal that she had done before.

If nothing else, it was a testament to how she was able to be at ease around him. That was something; that was good.

She flopped into bed and curled up with the (only) pillow, closing her eyes. Dimitri undressed slowly, wondering exactly how he was supposed to conduct himself. She liked him, he loved her. They had to share a bed tonight, and for the immediate future. Was he supposed to kiss her now? Should he leave his suit coat on.

He started with the easy layers – of course he shouldn’t wear shoes to bed, or his overcoat. He took off his suit jacket. Pants. Socks. No, it was cold in here. Socks back on. That was good, right?

Anya hadn’t even opened her eyes at all. She didn’t care. She was probably already asleep. He rolled into bed, yanking back some of the pillow.

“No.” she said, yanking the pillow back and letting his head smack against the mattress. “Get your own.”

“There’s only one!” Dimitri objected.

“Steal one, con man.”

Dimitri groaned but accepted his fate. But just as he did so, Anya pushed the pillow at his and laid her face on his chest, flopping her arm over him.

Dimitri laughed a little, pulling the pillow under his head and gingerly placing a hand on Anya’s back.

He had always figured he deserved what he’d gotten – sure, his life had been kind of shitty, but he wasn’t that great of a person. He lied, he cheated, he stole – for fun and profit. He never worked that hard, he missed church fairly regularly, and he’d drank a fair share of his dinners. But it seemed that he must’ve done something, at some point, so very right because now he had everything he had ever wanted; everything he had dreamed of for so long.

…

They were up the next morning quite early – Anya up before him, already dressed and downstairs. He couldn’t have missed her by more than ten minutes though, as there was a little pool of drool where she had slept on his chest. Dimitri dressed quickly and headed downstairs.

“Oh good, you’re both up. It’s quite early, so only the baker will be up with you.” Marta said happily, pulling more money out of a ceramic container. “Go, pay him for the week. Please. And pick up the bread. You’ll need four hands to carry it.”

“Alright!” Anya said chipperly, taking the money.

“And I won’t notice if a roll or two go missing.” Marta winked at them and Anya giggled.

They were out the door into the cold air and Anya wrapped Dimitri’s arm around herself before he even had a chance to wonder if it was okay.

They walked away from the water and towards an open square. Marta was right – really only the baker must be awake. There was no movement, no people, not a noise in the city. Sure, the sun wasn’t up yet, but didn’t anyone else rise early?

Dimitri looked down at Anya, who was humming a tune he couldn’t place and fingering the necklace she wore – he was sure she’d never take it off now. She walked with a bit of a skip.

“Anya.” Dimitri breathed, stopping in the middle of the square. 

The air was cold but very still, and not another soul was afoot. Dimitri turned to face her, with her big blue eyes looking up at him. “Yes?” she asked softly.

Dimitri smiled, just a little, before muttering “Oh, _God_ ” and capturing her in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and just pressed her up against himself. She was so warm and wonderful and he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

But still, in the back of his mind, he knew he had to bring her back to Paris.


	2. Chapter 2

Dimitri wondered if how he felt in the palace was how Anya felt in Petrograd; like you were welcome but didn’t quite belong. Like you were constantly walking into the wrong room, but it was just one door down from where you were really supposed to be. She didn’t say anything that would directly lead him to think this, but he noticed how nothing was natural to her here – she had never cleaned before, or cooked, or carried things to and from market. Anya chalked it up to her head injury, and would sometimes scold herself for being so dense, but she didn’t know the truth.

She didn’t know the truth.

They had been working at the boarding house for four weeks now, saving up money for train tickets and a bit of cushion in order to get them to Paris. Anya got frustrated with the work and the new environment and her own head keeping information from her, but most of the time she was just…happy. 

She would laugh and tease Dimitri, making fun of him in a lighthearted way that mostly just showed how comfortable she was with him.

And Dimitri was really, really happy as well. In the years before, he hadn’t dreamed of Anastasia often, mostly because he refused to let himself indulge in dreams that could never be. But this was not Anastasia he had wrapped up in his arms, face buried into his neck. This was Anya, a girl with no past and one dream for the future. A girl who was pulled from the snow and landed in the boarding houses by the warm. Anastasia could never have looked at him how he wanted. Anya…one day, Anya could love him.

Anya shifted in the first rays of the morning light and hooked her leg over Dimitri and he exhaled more loudly than he intended. He had fought this thought back for too long, but couldn’t escape it in the vulnerable morning – what if they didn’t go to Paris?

What if Anya never had to know the stories of that tragic night? What if her memories never came back, and she could build a life with him, here in Russia? Dimitri would feed her the memories he could – the good ones. Stories of her and her parents, her and her siblings. Ones that didn’t involve them getting shot and dumped in the snow. Stories of Christmases he observed and dinner parties he ate scraps from. The food tasted good several hours old, he could only imagine how good it tasted when she was eating it warm. He could make that up.

It would be the most selfish thing he’d ever done, which meant something in the scheme of a life of a selfish man. Dimitri had always taken what he wanted, when he wanted it, regardless of if he deserved it. But doing that to get food, to get clothing, to get shelter seemed so innocuous when compared to this.

Dimitri closed his eyes and pictured what could be. They would work here, saving their money until he could get them a separate house or apartment, further from the wharf. Anya seemed to get along with people well, she’d probably want to live a bit more in the city. They could get married, for real. They’d go to another city to do it, as to not create rumors that could possibly make their way back to Marta. But he’d get her a ring, and give her a nice ceremony. She wouldn’t have the finest dress possible, but if she wanted a silk wedding dress, she’d get silk. Or whatever she wanted. Dimitri could work the rest of his life to ensure that Anya got whatever she wanted. He just prayed that she’d always want him. He prayed she did now.

He didn’t know why he doubted himself, doubted this so much. He had never spent this much time thinking about any girl before, and it was driving him insane. He found himself reading into every one of her actions, picking it apart and analyzing why it couldn’t quite mean what he wanted it to. After they kissed, he shone, but that night after she had gone to bed he wondered if she kissed him just because she wanted to kiss someone, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Maybe he was just in the right place at the right time, and that was all.

But the next morning, she had woke him up by kissing him all over his face and ending on his lips, and Dimitri pushed all those thoughts out of his head. Until later, when he wondered if her affection was just infatuation, and she would grow tired of him in a week.

But four weeks had passed and she still kissed him and touched him and slept pressed up against him, putting her cold feet on his legs and fitting her face into his neck. She still smiled at him when their jobs crossed paths (which was often – it wasn’t that big of a boarding house) and jumped at opportunities for them to run errands together.

Dimitri sighed again, eyes still closed. Maybe Anya really did like him, maybe she really did care. Maybe this wasn’t an impulsive bite of a love bug that would close up and heal. Sure, they had only been together for a little bit, but something may have been there. She would fall in love with him, as he had done with her, and they could spend the rest of their lives living together, working together, loving each other.

But Dimitri opened his eyes at looked down at the lanky redhead wrapped around him. How could this ever be their reality, when he was still keeping this secret from her?

…

“Look, Dimitri!” Anya said proudly. She was all but coated in flour, holding a tiny, perfect roll.

“Hey, look at you!” Dimitri said, stooping in to kiss her temple. “Your baking has gotten so good.”

“It was always in there, I’m sure.” Marta said lovingly.

“I figure it must’ve gotten knocked out with the rest of memories.” Anya joked. “Along with how to do really any other chore.”

“Lord, what a life to not have to know such things.” Marta sighed.

“Lovebirds, would you run down to the market? I have a grocery order put in. I can send Anton as well if you need extra hands.”

“Nah, we can manage!” Anya said, wrapping her hands around Dimitri’s arm.

Dimitri smiled down at her. Already he had had Anya in his life for longer than he had ever dreamed, and for longer than he deserved. He wondered when his luck would run out. If it had to, maybe there could at least be a way to control it.

They made it down to the market easily, chatting about what Dimitri would cook for dinner that night, and about a strange looking fish Anya had seen one of the fishermen hook earlier that morning. They knew their way to the grocer quite easily and were lulled into a lovely routine – except for the fact that Dimitri overheard a phrase he had hoped, wished, prayed he would never hear here.

“That looks just like Anastasia!”

He froze for a second, side glancing and two young women who watched Anya go into the grocers’, their mouths agape.

“You don’t believe the rumors, do you?”

The taller of the two women hushed the other, pointing briefly at Dimitri. They looked away, and turned back to their shopping. Dimitri felt his heart through his chest, but took a deep breath as he stepped inside the grocer. Anya was none the wiser.

“Hey!” Anya smiled up at him, kissing his cheek. “Where’d ya go?”

“Oh, just had to tie my boot.” He lied, walking up to the counter.

“You can’t run off – Marta gave _you_ the money.

“You know, if we throw this money in the right game of dice we can double it?” Dimitri said, giving a crooked smile.

“You are not losing Marta’s money in a game of cards!” Anya scolded, lunging for his pocket.

Dimitri stepped back from her with a laugh. “Are you trying to rob a thief?” he asked quietly, smirking at her.

“Maybe.” Anya said, trying to steel her face as much as possible.

“Alright, rob me.”

“I don’t wanna.” Anya shrugged, looked away, and then lunged for him again.

Dimitri grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her, and kissed her. He broke apart after just a few seconds and pecked her forehead.

“No fair.” Anya wined.

“Yes it is. Our groceries are ready.” Dimitri jutted his chin towards the counter where a burly, very unamused man stood. “And I have to pay him.” Dimitri said, dragging out the ‘I’ as much as possible to rub it in.

“Big whoop.” Anya rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry Anya, but maybe if you could keep your hands on money Marta would trust you with it.”

“She’s biased, she’s known you forever.”

“She’s just a good tell of character.” Dimitri handed Anya one of the bags and picked up the other two.

Anya walked backwards out of the shop. “If she was a good tell of character she would hardly pick you!-“

Someone cleared their throat, and Anya looked over.

Anya locked eyes with the two women, who had not moved since Dimitri left them. They saw her, they looked into her bright blue Romanov eyes.

Dimitri felt it then. His luck had run out.

…

The walk back was the worst of Dimitri’s life. Every step felt like he was being watched.

“Why are you so tense?”

“Never know when you’re gonna rob me, you know.”

“Good.” Anya said. “Stay on your toes. I will get you.”

“Oh Anya,” Dimitri said sarcastically. “But you’ve already stolen my heart. Isn’t that enough?” it was true, but he’d be damned if he could ever say something that sappy out loud.

“Oh, shut _up_!” Anya sighed, lightly shoving him.

Dimitri laughed. She really didn’t know how much he loved her. He wasn’t sure how he could tell her, but he’d find a way. One day.

…

Dimitri tried to avoid the market as much as possible. Or, more specifically, he tried to get Anya to avoid the market as much as possible. He was confident that former castle workers – and, Lord, there were plenty of them – were probably slowing moving into Petrograd for work. Many of them had worked their entire lives in the palace, and could recognize Anya even without the gowns.

“Don’t we have to go to the market?” Anya asked one day, counting back days on her fingers.

“Dimitri went yesterday morning!” Marta said cheerfully.

Anya turned to Dimitri. “Why didn’t you take me with?” she said, a little hurt.

He had no reason he could tell her. “You were sleeping, I was up earlier than normal. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Anya pouted a little. “Well, wake me up next time.”

…

He wasn’t sure if she had done it before, but Dimitri felt Anya roll over him one night. He kept his eyes closed and laid as still as possible, unsure of what she was doing. But he felt her roll off him and get out of bed, and silently cursed that he really didn’t have _any_ luck, did he?

Feigning sleep, he listened as she rustled though their few belongings. With a few cranks, a small tune filled the room. Her music box.

“Dancing bears…” she sang softly, but stopped. Dimitri wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep quiet, or had just forgotten all the other words.

She turned the music box a few more times – the tune wasn’t that loud, and Dimitri apparently convincingly played the part of Sleeping Dimitri. After the third rendition, she sighed and he heard the definitive click of the music box. She climbed back over him and slid her cold hand up his shirt. He winced reflexively.

“Did I wake you?” she whispers.

“Snore.” Dimitri said.

Anya giggled and shoved him lightly. “Sorry.” She said.

Dimitri kissed the top of her head. “Are you okay?”

Anya was quiet for a moment. “Do you remember the marketplace a couple weeks back?”

Dimitri stiffened, and wrapped his right arm around Anya. “Yes.”

“I know you probably didn’t even notice but there were two women there, in blue dresses.”

Dimitri paused before saying, “I saw them.”

“Do you recognize them?” she asked.

“No.” he said. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full story.

“I don’t know where from, but I feel like I do.” Anya breathed. “Could they be from before?”

“I don’t know.” Dimitri said.

“I just wanna _remember_.” Anya said, a sniffle in her voice. “I keep seeing faces, so many faces…but I don’t know who they are.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Dimitri wrapped both arms around her now, letting her cry into his shoulder. “You’ll remember eventually.” He felt like he was casting a curse. “You’ll remember eventually.”

…

“How long have you been married?” Marta asked them one day, a few weeks later, as Dimitri was cooking dinner and Anya was eating all of the ingredients she could get to.

“Stop that.” Dimitri laugh-scolded, yanking a potato from Anya. “Were you really going to eat a raw potato?”

“Well, I’d try it.” Anya shrugged.

“It’s for dinner. You’ll eat it – cooked and seasoned, like it’s supposed to be – in an hour.” Dimitri threw a towel over his shoulder.

“We’ve been married almost a year.” Anya answered Marta’s question, but still watching Dimitri.

“I believe it. I haven’t seen you two separate the entire time you’ve been here!” Marta sighed. “When is your anniversary?”

“Three days.” Anya said, sticking her finger in another pot.

“Hey!” Dimitri pointed at her but Anya only laughed, as if challenging him to stop her.

“Three days!” Marta said happily. “Well, we’ll have to throw a party.”

“Party!” Anya said excitedly.

“That’s so generous of you, Marta. Thank you.” Dimitri turned to smile at the woman, which prevented him from noticing Anya stealing an apple.

…

“Dimitri.” Anya said, shooting up in bed and shaking her fake husband.

“What is it? Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Was I even inside a palace?”

Dimitri’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Why do you ask?”

“I just had a dream – and I know that dreams aren’t real – but it was so vivid and I feel like I was really there, so maybe I was – I don’t know!” she turned and looked at him.

Half-asleep and fully caught off guard, Dimitri nodded. “Your family was rich. They were, uh, royalists. Had favor from the tsar.”

Anya got very quiet. “Is that why they were killed?”

Dimitri rubbed Anya’s back. “I’m sorry.”

Anya buried her head into her knees and Dimitri leaned forward with her. “I hate this. I hate this so much.” She said. “I want to remember my family – even if it means remembering what happened that morning before I woke up in the snow.”

Dimitri felt immensely guilty, but how was he supposed to give her the truth at this ungodly hour, when she was stunned by nightmares? “It’s gonna be okay.” He promised.

“I know. I know.” Anya nodded, leaning into him. “You make everything feel better, Dimitri.”

_I love you._ “I’m glad to hear it.”

…

Dimitri was a bundle of nerves as they went back to the market. He was afraid that someone would recognize Anya, and call her by the name she really was. Anya seemed to notice his nerves, studying his face.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “You seem nervous. We’re just going to the market. Really early, besides.” Anya gestured to the market, pointing out how empty it was.

“I’m fine!” Dimitri insisted, looping his arm around her waist.

Anya rolled her body into his. “You promise?”

“Yes.”

“Because you can tell me if something is wrong.”

“I know.”

She moved too easily, weaving between people and talking to stand keepers, fully unburdened by this secret. Dimitri wanted to keep her safe, to move her through the market quickly, to carry out the mission. When, suddenly, a realization hit him. He couldn’t hold her back; he couldn’t suppress her forever. His daydreams of a quiet life in Russia were impossible, unless he wanted to give her up. If there was to be any chance of being with her, he would have to tell her the truth.

She would have to go to Paris.

…

“I’ve invited a few friends over, and made a special dinner-“

“Oh, Marta.” Dimitri interrupted. “I can cook!”

“No!” Marta waved a towel at him. “Out! Out! It’s your anniversary dinner!”

Dimitri smiled, but put both his hands up and walked out of the kitchen, to the sitting room where Anya was talking with a few of the boarders she had befriended. She always looked so happy when she talked to people, speaking with her hands and laughing at her own joked. Dimitri was content to watch her until she yelled, “Dimitri, get over here!”

Dimitri sat down next to her and smiled a bit to himself as he noticed the envy on one boarder’s face.

“You’ve been married a year, huh? To this dope?” the boarder asked, trying to say it jokingly.

“Yessir!” Anya said, grabbing Dimitri’s hand and kissing his cheek.

She was willing to lie too, when it was for a good purpose. When it kept them together. Dimitri tried to stretch this parallel to justify his prolonged selfishness, but it wasn’t holding anymore. He wanted to take her outside and have this whole thing over with, but first-

“Dinner!” Marta called.

The meal was, of course, delicious. Dimitri didn’t know, though, his mind being elsewhere for the entirety of it. He ate through both the meal and dessert smiling at Anya when she looked over at him, and responding to people when specifically asked for conversation, but mulled over exactly what he was going to say, and how he was going to do it. He needed more time, but the meal finished up too soon. As, of course, it would.

“Here, we can-“ Anya said, but she was quickly interrupted.

“Oh, no!” Marta lovingly scolded. “You two go on a walk. _I’ll_ clean up!”

…

Dimitri adjusted the bag he was holding. Anya wrapped both her slender hands around one of his rough ones and tugged him along the deserted walkway. There were a few glowing lanterns, and a flowerbed dug into a wide ledge, but not a soul in sight.

“Dimitri, I want to tell you something.” Anya said, a small smile at her lips. She reached her hands out to him and, instinctually, Dimitri wrapped both his hands around hers.

“I have to tell you something.” Dimitri said, trying to not sound somber. _Remember, this is happy news…_

“Okay, okay, but let me go first!” Anya pled, bouncing a little. “I’ve-I’ve been thinking about this for a while. And, as far as I know, I’ve never said this to anyone, so I think that makes it a pretty big deal.”

Dimitri felt hope alight in his heart. Could she really be saying what he thought she was going to say?

“And I know we haven’t been here – been together – for too long, but I know very little Dimitri, on account of the whole head-injury thing – and missing a lifetime of memories really clears up a lot of space in the brain for these sorts of thoughts.” She laughed, and Dimitri laughed with her a little, nervously willing her to just say it, _say_ it!

Anya sighed and continued, “And it’s not just because you saved my life – though that has helped. I don’t know anyone who’s as funny as you. I don’t know anyone as brave. I don’t know anyone who knows how to be kind, and really, really care for me. I don’t know if I could’ve made it this far west without you. I don’t think I’d want to.” She swallowed, looking down at her own feet, and then meeting Dimitri’s eyes. “I love you, Dimitri.” She said softly.

A smile – he couldn’t help it! – split across Dimitri’s face and his slid his hands down Anya’s arms to wrap around her waist and press her up against himself. He kissed her, with the deep love of a boy who had pined for years, and the urgency of a man who knew that this may be the last time he’d ever get to touch her.

“I love you, too.” He promised, bringing their bodies as close together as possible. “God, Anya, I love you so much. You don’t even know.”

Anya smiled at this and moved back to kiss him, pressing her hands up against his chest. Dimitri wondered if he should flex again, but figured he had lied to her enough for one night.

“Please know that, Anya.” He broke them apart for one second, kissing her forehead. “I’ve loved you for years.” He kissed her cheek. “Since we were young, basically children.” He kissed her other cheek. “It’s always been you, there’s never been anyone but _you_.” He met her lips again.

He rans his hands up the slope of her narrow waist, feeling the niche where it indented. Anya broke away for just a second to catch her breath, but threw her arms around Dimitri’s neck and let him pick her up and place her on a ledge. She so naturally wrapped her legs around his hips and he pressed himself as close as he could, hands sliding down to rest on her hips.

Breathlessly, Anya broke away and said, “Do you- do you want to-“

“Anya…” Dimitri said, cupping her face. “Yes, but there’s something I have to tell you first.”

“Oh, you’re not married for real, I hope.” Anya laughed, but Dimitri didn’t laugh with her this time. 

Anya narrowed her eyes. “You _aren’t_ , right?”

Dimitri summoned the only smile he could. She had relaxed her body around him, no longer clinging to him. He missed her warmth already. “No, Anya, I’m not married. I told you it was always and only ever you.” Dimitri had touched other women, known other women, but it had never meant anything. He had never been able to kid himself into that. “When I said I love you, I meant it.”

“Then why does it feel like something’s wrong?” Anya asked, her voice gentle. “I love you, you love me, let’s kiss.” She reached her hands out, cupping his face lovingly, like he had always done to her. 

“I’ve always been honest about how I feel about you, but there’s one thing you need to know.” Dimitri gently pinched the thin chain resting on her décolletage, pulling out the necklace she had yet to take off. “About this.”

“Dimitri, just tell me. You’re scaring me.”

“You do have family in Paris – your grandmother.”

“And she gave this to me?”

“Yes – along with the music box, presumably.” Dimitri said.

“The one with the dancing royals in it?” Anya asked.

“The one with your dancing parents in it.” Dimitri said.

Anya leaned back from him. “What? What are you saying?”

“Your parents were Tsar Nicholas II and Tsarina Alexandra.”

“That’s not possible!” Anya exclaimed. “How would I not know that I was a royal?”

Dimitri reached into the bag he brought with, pulling out the silk dress. “Look at this, Anya. Look at your necklace. That’s real gold. This is real silk. These things aren’t owned by ordinary people – as you know all too well now. Do you think Marta has even ever touched silk? Do you think the fishermen buy their wives fine golden necklaces?”

“We’ve been working for over a month and we barely even have train tickets.” Anya said quietly. Her sadness quickly sparked to anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” she hit him on the side of the arm.

“I wanted to get you out of that woods as soon as I learned you were alive!” Dimitri said, placing his hands on the sides of her knees, but Anya knocked his hands off and Dimitri stepped back. “You didn’t remember anything, and it was easier to tell you you were a commoner in order to get you out of there. If one of the soldiers, or a civilian with a bent against your father saw that you lived you’d be dead for sure.”

“It’s been months since then!” Anya exclaimed. “We’ve been living together! Working together! Sleeping together! You couldn’t find a spare moment?”

“I wanted to protect you, what happened to your family was awful!” Dimitri pleaded, noticing the fire burning in her eyes. “If you didn’t remember that, maybe that was better!”

“That wasn’t for you to decide!” Anya yelled, hopping down from the ledge and looking him in the eye. “How could you keep my entire life from me like that? You had me believing that I was someone I wasn’t, living a life I wasn’t born into!”

“I’m sorry, Anya-“

“Is that even my name?” she asked.

Dimitri bit his lip. “Your real name is Anastasia.”

“You didn’t even tell me my real name.” Anastasia said, disgusted.

“Anya-Anastasia.” Dimitri corrected himself. “I’m so sorry, I really am. I wish that I had done this better, but I didn’t see how to do it and by the time we were out of the woods…I was worried that telling you would ruin everything.”

“How could that be, Dimitri?” Anastasia said, pushing his chest. “When not telling me is what did it?” She folded her arms and turned away from him, walking away.

Dimitri hesitated for a moment, but ran after her.

“Go away!” Anastasia barked, turning her head.

Dimitri walked alongside her. “You don’t have to forgive me, or ever talk to me again, if you want me to never talk to you again you can take all the money we’ve saved up and go to Paris tonight, if that’s what you want. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but I don’t know that much about your grandmother. I’ll walk you to the station, if you want, to make sure you get on the train safely.”

Anastasia stopped walking and glared up at him. “What do you want, Dimitri? If that is your real name.”

“It is.” Dimitri said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I should’ve done this sooner, done it right. But I’ll do it now. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. If you don’t have questions I can just talk until you think of some. If you don’t want to hear from me ever again I can go back east, or stay here and have you go to Paris. Whatever you want, Anastasia. I’m sorry.”

She said nothing, still breathing heavily.

“I do really love you, for what it’s worth. As Anya, as Anastasia.” He promised her. “And if I never see you again after tonight, I want you to know that.”

Anastasia surveyed him, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m going back to the boarding house.” She said, her voice more gentle than before. Still, she walked away from him.

Dimitri’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed his eyes. He had fucked up. Royally fucked up. How could he have expected her to trust him? A con man who mysteriously appears on her worst day and then spends the next chunk of their time together lying to her? What was he supposed to do now?

“You can come with.”

Dimitri looked up, running his hand down his face. Anya, arms still wrapped around her torso had turned to face him. Dimitri tried not to smile too wide, but it was hard. Maybe, somehow, she could forgive him yet.

“But you’re sleeping on the floor.” Anastasia added as he approached her. “And tomorrow – tomorrow we leave for Paris. I want to meet my grandmother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review, please :)


	3. Chapter 3

She wasn’t going to forgive him. The gears undoing Dimitri’s mind sprung into action again. The ones that convinced him that Anya – pardon, Anastasia – couldn’t possibly love him. He laid on the cold wooden floors of their bedroom (her bedroom?) and thought about all that had transpired. He had truly fucked up, but he was still here. She had still invited him back. But maybe she needed a night to be truly angry. Maybe she didn’t want him to die on the streets so she could kill him herself.

He rubbed his hands down his face and exhaled. He just had to fix this – that was the only option. He didn’t know how to do it, or when would be the right time, but he had to do it. Dimitri laid out in the faint rays of the moon, mind working vigorously when he heard a soft sob.

He sat up slowly, listening intently. “Anastasia?” he whispered, after hearing a sniffle.

Another sob.

“Ana…” he rolled up to his knees and shuffled over to her bed. “Are you okay?”

She hiccupped a little, face buried in the pillow. Dimitri felt like he was back to square one – was it okay to rub her back? Should he be near her at all?

But she rolled her face to look at him and said the words that he had both dreaded and anticipated. “I remember.”

“Everything?” Dimitri asked.

Anastasia pulled her knees up towards her chest. “I don’t know…” she moaned. “I remember being led to a dark room…Mama was so quiet the whole time, she didn’t even know what to do…they led us out into the cold-“ she sobbed again and Dimitri reached out to her, rubbing her upper back as she cried.

“I’ve been seeing their faces, I didn’t know-“ Anastasia choked.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Dimitri promised. “Maybe not now, but eventually.”

“Does it get worse?” Anastasia asked. “I remember us dying, but does it get worse than that?”

“No.” Dimitri said firmly, sadly. “Anastasia, I’ve known you your whole life. I promise things were good. The good memories will come back.”

“I remember you.” She said softly.

Dimitri’s heart sunk into his stomach. This was it, it was really over. She knew that she was a princess, he was a kitchen boy. Even now, all he is is a kitchen boy.

She touched him softly, and dropped her hand back to her hip. “You were my friend.”

…

In time, Anastasia fell back asleep and Dimitri laid back down on the floor, burying his face in the pillow (she had given him the pillow). He wished he could swaddle himself up and forget everything, but that wasn’t an option (she had kept the blanket).

Still, he fell asleep in time and awoke only to the movement of Anastasia who was up, dressed, and packing for departure.

“Come on.” She said, jerking her chin towards the door. “We’ve gotta get out of here early if we want to get the last tickets.”

“How many people do you really think are going to Paris?” Dimitri yawned.

“I’m not taking any chances.” Anastasia closed the bag. “We have to go today.” She didn’t explain further, but Dimitri understood.

“We?” he confirmed.

“I remember a lot more than I did before.” Anastasia said. “But not everything.”

“Oh.” Dimitri said. She still spoke coolly towards him, but she was speaking to him now, so that was something. But he was not so naïve to assume she would forgive his betrayal overnight. It was enough, more than enough, to be continuing on this journey with her.

Their goodbye to Marta took very long – Dimitri knew it would. She cried, and hugged them, and gave them bags of buns to take on their journeys. She offered money, but Anya firmly refused. Dimitri held his breath – they could’ve used it, they’d probably need it, but Marta had indeed given them so much already. It would be greedy to ask for more than what was owed.

And as they walked silently to the train station, Dimitri felt that old insecurity flash again – what if he had been greedy? Keeping Anastasia in an accessible form; reaching for her at all. But he stood fast. What he had done was wrong yes; it was selfish. But he did not trick her into loving him – she did. As Anya, as Anastasia. She had the power to be both, and she always had the ability to choose for herself.

He looked over at her just as she shuttered. He reached over, gingerly pulling her scarf up over her head. She said nothing, but looked at him for just a moment.

“Are we close?” she asked, after a few more minutes passed.

“It’ll come into sight soon.” Dimitri paused a beat. “Are you excited?”

“Yes.” Anastasia responded. “But nervous too, I suppose.”

“I think that’s fair.”

They bought their tickets – draining most of their funds. Dimitri was twofold grateful for the buns. But of course Anastasia had to go back to Paris. They boarded the train, this one being far more crowed than their train into Petrograd. Their little cabin car was shared with a man, who was sleeping when they came in.

Anastasia gave a shuttering breath and looked around the little cabin car. “This is it, isn’t it?” she said breathlessly. “I’m really going to Paris.” She slid down into the seat, and Dimitri sat beside her.

“Anastasia?”

She sat silently for a moment, then looked over at him. “You can still call me Anya.” She said.

Dimitri smiled at her, but tried to keep himself contained. “You may call me Dima, then. If you want.”

“Dima.” She muttered, rolling back.  “Yes, Dima?”

“I really am sorry.”

Anya shrugged a little, seeming to mull over her next words. “No need to be sorry.” She said, looking over at him. “I forgave you last night.”

…

The train rattled off towards Paris – it would be an overnight trip. Dimitri would look over at Anya intermittently, but she mostly leaned against the side of the seat and looked out the window as Russia passed them by.

“Can we ever come back?” she asked suddenly, quietly.

Dimitri shrugged a little. He didn’t want to speak too loudly. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Especially once your grandmother knows who you are.”

“I know it’s more important to find her, but –“

“Sh!” Dimitri said sharply, as the man sitting across from them fluttered his eyes open.

Dimitri watched as the man sat up straighter and nodded at him, then turned his eyes to Anastasia, looked at her right in her clear blue Romanov eyes.

…

The man never left the train car, drifting between sleeping and waking. Every time Anya starting talking about her grandmother or anything that may associate her with the royal family, Dimitri would switch the topic over to something else. They and the man only exchanged words once.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Paris.” Dimitri said simply.

“It’s our first time there!” Anya said happily.

“Are you married?” He asked, eyes flicking to their bare hands.

Anya laughed, but Dimitri put his arm around her. “Yes.” He said firmly, praying Anya would continue to play along.

“Yes.” She smiled, maybe a bit more than she needed to.

The man just nodded.

“Where are you going?” Dimitri asked. Maybe the man was just being friendly, maybe he was just overreacting.

“Paris.” The man said, muttered something Dimitri didn’t quite catch, and then drifted off back to sleep.

…

“Anya,” Dimitri tested out her name again, but she didn’t react. He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“What?” she asked sleepily.

“Sh, we don’t want to wake him up.”

“You’re awful considerate for a man you’ve never met.”

“I’m not being considerate for him.” Dimitri said, but didn’t elaborate. “We’re gonna get into Paris early – about four a.m. I’m not tired, so I’ll just stay up. I’ll wake you a bit before we leave. I think we should go up to the front of the train and leave quickly.”

“Why?” Anya whispered back.

“I’ll explain later. Trust me?”

Anya huffed a little, but closed her eyes, aqueisqeuing to his plan. She leaned away from him, against the wall, and curled her legs up.

Dimitri surveyed the man he so unnecessarily distrusted. The man had done nothing wrong, unless you were to fault him for sloth. He hadn’t asked any terribly intrusive questions. He hadn’t spoken to them much at all. He hadn’t touched them, or threatened them, and he didn’t appear aggressive in any form.

Still, Dimitri hadn’t survived this long by not trusting his gut. And his gut told him to get Anya off the train as quickly as possible.

…

Dimitri was awoken – shit! Shit! He fell asleep! He sat up quickly and scanned the car. The man was gone – and so was Anya! Fuck!

This was the one thing he wasn’t supposed to do, but he just closed his eyes for a minute and that minute became an hour. Maybe more. Either way, it was enough.

“Anya!” he called out, completely uncaring as to whether or not he was disturbing the other passengers. Better they be awake, anyway. Now they can help. “ANYA!”

The train screeched to a stop and Dimitri threw the bag over his shoulder, running down the hall and calling out her name. People didn’t seem to want to help or ask, and he didn’t have the time to stop someone and make them care. She couldn’t be too far, right? The train only just pulled into the station, if she had been taken off then she couldn’t be too far.

He bumped into many people who were leisurely exiting their cars, none with any appreciation of the urgency this event held. A few yelled at him or scoffed, but Dimitri barely even noticed. When he reached the front of the train without seeing her, he jumped out and onto the platform, running up the short staircase that opened into a large station, packed with people.

“ _Hueeh_ -YAH!”

Dimitri heard someone scream and spun around. A thud quickly followed.

“I’ll kick your ass anytime, any day!” Anya yelled, waving a briefcase at the man, who was limping away quickly, holding the side of his leg.

“Psycho bitch!” the man yelled back at her.

“Oh, I’m just getting started!” she yelled, stepping towards him again. “You wanna try again?”

“Anya!” Dimitri yelled, running towards her.

Anya turned around and smiled at him. She handed the briefcase back to the man she had presumably borrowed it from, said something Dimitri didn’t hear, and then ran towards his as he was running towards her.

“Anya!” Dimitri exclaimed happily, wrapping her up tightly in his arms. “Oh my God,”

She threw her arms around his neck.

“I was so worried, oh my God.”

Barely thinking, filled only with relief, Dimitri stooped to kiss her. He broke away suddenly, but Anya gave a little sigh and placed both her hands on the side of his face to bring them together once again.

…

Dimitri walked out to hail a cab.

“Emmenez-nous à Dowager Empress Marie.” He said, exhausting his French.”

“S'il vous plait!” Anya added quickly.

Dimitri looked over at her, slightly confused, until he remembered who in fact she was.

Anya touched her throat. “I don’t know, I just remembered.”

“Well, that’ll come in very handy here.” He said. He wasn’t sure what was to come next. She was going to be a princess again, in less than an hour.

“I knew things would be different, coming to find my grandmother.” Anya said, switching back to Russian. “I forgot that they could be different like that. I think I understand more now why you were so anxious.”

Dimitri gave a half smile. “I’ve been anxious this whole time.”

“It’s all going to be okay, I think.” Anya said hopefully. “Do you know what that man said to me?”

“What?”

“He said I looked like the princess the Dowager Empress had been searching for. He said there was a great reward, and that if I played along, he’d split some of it with me.”

“How perceptive of him.” Dimitri mumbled.

“Just in case there was any doubt in our minds, I guess.” Anya laughed. “Wouldn’t he be surprised at how easily he would’ve gotten away with it.”

“Instead, he barely got away at all.” Dimitri laughed.

“Ooh, how it made me burn! I can’t believe he’d want to take advantage of someone like that, and for no good reason!”

“Well once you’re princess again, you can have him sent to Siberia.”

Anya laughed a little. “No I can’t. It won’t be like it was before, I know that. I’m princess of nothing, I’ll just be given a tiara for show.”

The cab pulled over and the driver asked for the fare. Anya pulled out the last of their money and handed it to him. The couple got out of the cab and looked up at the imposing house in front of them. Dimitri wondered in Anya was worried, or doubted if her grandmother would remember. She had left for Paris a couple years before that fateful night, after all. And Anya did look different as a nineteen year old in rags, as opposed to a seventeen year old in a gown.

He placed a hand on her lower back and Anya sighed, taking a step towards the palace.

…

Rumors had been spread of an accidental survival, far more than Dimitri would’ve expected and certainly more than he had heard about. When Anastasia gave her full royal name to the doorman, he all but tipped over. The two were welcomed in and led to a sitting room, where the Dowager Countess was to meet them.

“Meet _her_.” A servant corrected, all but dragging Dimitri out of the room.

“No, I won’t talk, just let me sit with her-“ he implored, but Anya insisted that no, it was okay, she’d be fine, and Dimitri was shuffled outside of the sitting room and into another one.

He sat and waited for what felt like ages, probably to a similar length of time the Dowager sat in her home and wondered if she’d ever see her granddaughter again. Dimitri felt another flash of now-familiar guilt. They had gotten to Paris fairly quickly, considering, but they could’ve written or sent word, he supposed. He had gotten too caught up to think of anyone but himself and Anya.

“Are they still talking?” he asked the servant who stood near the doorway.

The servant gave a slight nod.

“Is that good?”

Shrug.

“Are you allowed to talk to me?”

“No.”

Dimitri snorted and slid down the couch.

…

The Dowager Countess and Anastasia entered his sitting room after what turned out to be one hour, 49 minutes, and 32 seconds. They were laughing, there were tears on their faces, and their arms were linked.

Dimitri sat up straight, no, he should stand. No. Bow.

Anya put a hand to her mouth to cover her giggle at the awkwardness, but Dimitri accepted that as fair. He hadn’t really planned how he was supposed to react.

“Uh, your highness.” He said, rising up.

“Young man, is it you I have to thank for returning my granddaughter to me?” she asked.

“Oh, well-“

“Absolutely.” Anastasia said warmly. “He rescued me from the hills around the palace, kept me from freezing to death, and helped me get across and out of the country. Without him, I would’ve starved or froze. I wouldn’t be here, not by any measure.”

“Any reward, young man. Anything you desire, shall be yours. You have my eternal gratitude.”

“With all due respect, your majesty, there’s nothing you can give me that would be more important that getting Anya-Anastasia back to her family safely.”

“How noble of you.” Marie said. “But here, you must rest up here. We have some celebrating to do! And you can’t go back to Russia without a few good meals in you.”

…

That night, after a lively feast (which he didn’t feel too happy about), and a few rounds of cocktails (which tasted nothing like vodka), Dimitri sat up in the nicest room he had ever been in, feeling miserable. The Dowager Countess was right. He would of course have to go back to Russia, right? It was too bold of him to even think he could stay here with Anya. Anastasia. He supposed he’d have to make the switch for good right now.

There were two small knocks on the door.

“Come in.” Dimitri said, perched on the window seat and looking out at the city below.

“Hi.” Anya said softly, poking her head in. “Look!” she said happily, swirling about in a gown and robe. “I have actual pajamas again!”

“Hey, very nice!”

“Okay, so what do you want to do tomorrow? I don’t think I’ve been to Paris before, or, at least, I don’t remember it-“

“I should probably go find a train.” Dimitri said sadly.

“Did you want to go somewhere? Already had your fill of Paris?” Anya teased, sitting down next to him.

“Well I’ll have had a few good meals in me, like your grandmother said, so I should probably be making my way back to Russia.”

Anya was quiet for a moment. “You want to go back to Russia?”

“No!” Dimitri said quickly. “I’ll miss the country, in it’s own way, of course, but I’d rather stay here.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Anya pressed.

“Anya-Anastasia, sorry, there’s a reason I never tried to make a move, so to say, while we were friends in the palace.” Dimitri shook his head. “You’re from a completely different world than I am. One I’m not supposed to enter.”

“ _Anya_.” She pressed, assuring him that it was okay. “That world is gone, Dimitri.” Anya said softly. “Everything has changed since then. It’s only fair that some stuff changes for the better.”

And she kissed him.

“Do you want me to stay? Does your grandmother?”

“Dimitri I want you to stay. I don’t know what she wants, or what she thinks is going to happen, but it doesn’t matter. I know who I am. I’m reunited with my family. If we spend the rest of our lives running through the streets of France then I’ll be content, because at least I’ll be off doing things with you.”

“I don’t want you to give up being a princess for me.”

“I’m not giving up everything! I was born a princess, Dimitri. I was one even when I didn’t remember it, I am one now, I’ll be one no matter where we go or what we do. And!” she said, grabbing his hands. “I would implore you to remember such a thing next time you get mopey and think you can run off back to Russia!”

Dimitri smiled at her. “Then tomorrow, we take Paris by storm! But tonight,” he stood up and pulled Anya to her feet. “tonight will be like old times. Tonight, you stay with me.”

Anya smiled at him. “I still get all the blankets.”

“After what you did to that man in the train station? You can have whatever you want, I’m not messing with you.”

The couple laughed, and went to bed with the soft glow of the city of light floating in through the open window. The streets were quiet, the palace was peaceful, and each fell asleep easily knowing that in the morning, life was to begin anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's my brief lil 3 shot! Review please, let me know if there's any other works/pairings/movies you're interested in. I <3 the princesses, disney and otherwise

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to continue so please leave reviews and encouragement ;)


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